


Naptime

by veronicasanders



Category: RuPaul's Drag Race RPF
Genre: Blow Jobs, Canon Compliant, Friends With Benefits, Inspired by Real Events, M/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-08
Updated: 2017-10-08
Packaged: 2019-01-10 14:20:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12300903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/veronicasanders/pseuds/veronicasanders
Summary: Some canon Bitney based on their social media shenanigans before Courtney went on tour.





	Naptime

Shane pushes open the door to his apartment, laughing. “Oh come on, pussyface, you have to admit it was good!”

“It was weird,” Roy pouts. “Weird, and that spongy bread shit? I just wanted a fork.”

“It’s called _injera_. And it’s a utensil as well as part of your meal. I think that’s ingenious, and environmentally friendly.”

“I LIKE EATING WITH A FORK!” Roy hollers, hands on his hips.

Shane giggles. “Yeah, well, they gave you a fork, didn’t they, Grandpa?”

Roy rolls his eyes, following Shane down the hall to his bedroom. “Yeah, yeah yeah. But it was fuckin’ weird and I didn’t like it.”

“Next time you can choose the restaurant.”

“Next time? Like I’m ever gonna hang out with you again, you wretched little cumbiscuit…”

Shane laughs again, pulling out his computer and climbing onto the bed.

Roy flops down beside him, kicking off his shoes. “So. Show me these pictures.”

“Alright, I’ve narrowed it down to like 5, but I just need some feedback before I choose the final image.” Shane turns the screen towards Roy, showing him the selects from the shoot for Courtney’s holiday show poster.

Roy looks at the photos. “Um, I don’t love the third one. Your eyes are a little buggy. The others…yeah. Good choices.”

“But which one is cutest?”

Roy rolls his eyes, laying back down again. “They’re all cute.”

“Awww…”

“I mean, given what Magnus had to work with. Your hideous brick of a mug.”

Shane laughs and closes the computer. He glances down at Roy, eyes half closed, hat falling off. He touches his cheek. “Tired?”

“That’s the understatement of the fuckin’ century…” Roy sighs.

Shane lays down beside him, removing his hat and pulling the covers over him. “I’m not surprised. When’s the last time you had a full night’s sleep?”

“What’s sleep?” Roy mumbles.

Shane curls against his body, head on his shoulder. “I’m serious. You need to take better care of yourself, pussyface.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah…”

“You work way too much. You need to plan breaks in your schedule. Combined with the drinking, the-”

“You drink too, Miss Perfect.”

Shane nods in agreement. “Yeah, I do, absolutely, and even to excess…occasionally. _Occasionally_ being the operative word there. And then I sleep until I’ve recovered, and hydrate, and eat healthy food. I don’t just drink 17 cups of coffee, or whatever else you do to stay awake-”

“Watch it.”

Shane sighs. “I’m not judging you, but…you’re not going to be able to keep up with this pace forever. And some of us kind of enjoy your company, and want you around past your next birthday.”

Shane had spoken with an airy, lighthearted tone, but there was an edge to it. A forcefulness that causes Roy to turn his head, to look at his friend, the intensity in his green eyes. “Sappy bitch,” Roy says, unable to resist breaking the tension rising between them.

“Yeah, well…” Shane’s hand finds his under the covers, brushing against his warm skin, lacing their fingers together, not letting Roy off the hook that easily.

Roy clears his throat. This has happened between them before, a few times, over the years. But it was always fueled by alcohol, adrenaline, the loneliness of life on the road. Quick and dirty, barely making eye contact. Barely frequent enough to be called “friends with benefits.” More like best friends who’d gotten each other off a couple of times. Three or four times, tops, if Roy’s counting.

This is different. For one thing, they are both stone cold sober. If you don’t count Roy’s exhaustion. For another, there’s that glowy afternoon light slanting into the room through the curtains. And there’s the fact that Roy knows, maybe more than anyone, what Shane went through this summer. How shattered he was after his breakup and how difficult it was for him to then slap on that sunny smile and go through the painfully awkward dating show nonsense. How all the stress of fighting with Willam was just icing on the cake. And so, as much of an asshole as Roy can be, there’s not a chance in fucking hell that he’s going to hurt him right now with “no, we shouldn’t” - even though they absolutely shouldn’t. Not here, not like this. But anyway, Roy has to admit to himself, he wants it too. He brings Shane’s fingers up to his mouth and bites gently on his knuckles, watching the blonde through hooded eyes.

Shane grins, fluttering his lashes in that coy, Courtney way of his. He flings a leg over Roy’s body, running his free hand through his dark hair, pads of his fingers against his scalp making Roy shiver. The soft, babylike sigh that escapes Roy’s lips causes Shane’s pupils to dilate. He leans down to whisper in Roy’s ear. “Let me take care of you…” He feels fingers digging into the small of his back as Roy nods eagerly, still sleepy-eyed, but skin now hot to the touch.

Roy can feel his pulse speeding up as Shane’s hands slide under his shirt. As whispery soft kisses are pressed to his jaw, his neck, down to his collarbone. He clutches the fabric of Shane’s shirt, tugging. Suddenly the desire to feel his skin is a need, an ache beyond reason. Shane slips out of the shirt and smiles at him. “Kiss me,” Roy says, and it’s a breathless demand, an urgent plea.

As Shane bends down to comply with his request, he grinds his hips against Roy’s, desperate to relieve the burning pressure in his belly, pressing Roy deeper into the mattress. He brushes his lips against Roy’s, letting the plush softness melt against him as the kiss deepens. Roy’s hands are on his ass now, gripping him tightly, arching up to rut against him, whimpering into Shane’s mouth. Shane breaks the kiss, licking Roy’s bottom lip softly. His head is getting fuzzy. This is hotter than he expected. Roy is so needy, panting into his neck now. He rubs circles against Roy’s head again, hears another breathy whimper that causes him bite down so hard he tastes blood.

Clutching Shane’s ass, Roy nearly whines his next request. “I want to taste you…”

Shane wastes no time losing his shorts, shimmying out of his briefs. He scratches a light trail down Roy’s chest as he crawls forward, hovering over him. He runs his thumb across Roy’s swollen lips as he arches forward. “Let’s put those ridiculous DSLs to work, eh?”

Roy cackles, and it’s so very _him_ , and it gives them both a charge, a jolt of energy electric as lightning. “Come here, you fucking whore.”

A naughty smile passes across Shane’s face as he kneels, straddling Roy’s shoulders, taking hold of the headboard. Roy’s plush lips fall open, and he starts to slowly, agonizingly, slide his dick into the wet heat of his mouth. Shane feels a wicked little thrill down his spine, watching Roy from this angle, vulnerable and obedient. Shane grabs a fistful of his hair, eyes gleaming with lust.

With one hand gripping Shane’s hip and the other wrapped around his dick, Roy begins to swirl his tongue in circles, sucking and licking, relishing the way he begins to subtly rock against his lips, but soon loses control, fucking his face with reckless, aggressive force.  Shane moans brokenly, and Roy knows he’s close; he can taste it, feel it in the back of his throat. “Come on, baby,” he growls around Shane’s pulsing cock.

Shane’s thrusting slows, becomes harder and deeper, and Roy squeezes his hand around the base of his shaft, sucking harder, flicking his tongue. He hums softly, low and deep and Shane moans, exploding into his mouth. Roy leans back, exhausted but victorious. Still in charge.

Shane collapses, chest heaving. “You tricked me…” he pants, a good-natured smile playing across his lips.

“Oh yeah?” Roy murmurs, chuckling. He can barely keep his eyes open.

“I was supposed to be taking care of you, but you…”

“Well, I don’t know what to tell you. I’m very giving.”

“Generous to a fault, that’s you,” Shane scoffs.

“Exactly.”

“Wrong. You’re a control freak. You just have to top from the bottom.”

Roy laughs, pulling Shane against him. “Was it unsatisfactory, baby?”

Shane snuggles into his arms, a hand moving in lazy circles against his chest. “That’s not what I said.”

“Okay, well then, there you go.” Roy inhales the scent of his hair. “You’re welcome.”

“Cocky bastard.”

A low, sleepy chuckle is the only response.

“And what about you? I care about fairness and justice, you know,” Shane murmurs.

Roy chuckles again. “You’ll owe me one. Now let me sleep.”

Shane makes another noise, halfway between a protest and a contented sigh, as he relaxes completely, letting his body melt into Roy’s, drifting off to sleep.

***

Roy murmurs happily, shifting. He’s warm…hot, actually, but in a good way, wrapped in Shane’s down comforter and pressed up against his bare chest. And something feels so…very…

His eyes flutter open. It’s nearly dark outside and his body feels heavy and calm. And Shane’s breath is softly tickling his neck, his fingers up under his shirt, trailing slow, lazy figure eights on his torso. His fly is open, and Shane’s leg, flung across his groin, is rubbing against his hard dick in a way that makes him feel weak. He wraps a hand around the base of Shane’s neck and whispers, “I guess naptime is over, huh?”

Shane smiles into the crook of his neck, sucking a light kiss into the tender flesh. “Are you still sleepy?” he asks, working up to his jaw, nuzzling against the scruff of his five o’clock shadow.

Roy shifts against Shane’s thigh, tightness curling in his belly. “I’m exhausted. But…my dick is hard.”

“Is it? I hadn’t noticed…” Shane licks his pulse point, rocks his hips a fraction of an inch, enough to cause Roy physical pain. Off his whimper, Shane lifts his head. “What was that, love?”

“I hate you…” Roy whispers.

Shane giggles, saying, “There’s no need to be rude.” He runs his hand gently through Roy’s hair, then grips it tight in his fist, breath hot as he whispers, “You gonna be good this time?”

Roy nods, not trusting his own voice, goosebumps prickling his skin.

Shane continues to suck gentle, teasing kisses into his skin, hands drifting up and down his chest, getting closer to the waistband of his briefs with every stroke.

As his heart begins to pound, Roy pushes his shorts halfway down his thighs. Shane is slowly moving down his chest, mouth on his stomach now. Roy grabs his hair, can’t help pushing down on his head. The involuntary move causes Shane to look up with a naughty glint in his eye, lashes fluttering. Roy whimpers. “Please…”

Grinning, Shane gets back to business. “So polite. Much better.” He lowers Roy’s underwear, paying no attention to the way the older man is squirming and panting.

And then Shane is straddling him, hovering over him while he tears open a condom and slides it on, and Roy is disoriented for a second. This isn’t what he thought was happening, at this moment, and as Shane starts to lower down slowly, Roy has a flash of concern. “Wait! You’re not-”

“I am,” Shane winks. “I told you I was taking care of things, didn’t I?”

Roy nods, relief flooding through his body, arms around Shane’s waist as he fights the urge to thrust, to take charge. He lays back, letting Shane ride him until he can barely breathe.

Shane leans forward, stroking Roy’s feverish cheeks, brushing their lips together. “You okay, baby?”

The desperate moan into his open mouth is Roy’s only response.

Shane rocks harder, deeper, slower. He pushes two fingers into Roy’s mouth, which he sucks on with glassy-eyed fervor. Shane leans back, muscles contracting, watching Roy fall apart completely. “Come for me…”

Roy claws at his thighs, arching up with a groan as he comes, gasping for air.

Shane strips the condom off and tosses it into the trash, moving back to curl against his flushed skin. Roy practically purrs in satisfaction as Shane begins licking him clean, fists buried in his silky hair.

“Fuck, Shane,” he sighs happily, aware of nothing but the warmth enveloping him, Shane’s soft tongue. He loosens his grip on Shane’s hair, body sinking into the mattress, enjoying every second of his gentle affection as his eyes fall closed again.

Wrapping himself around Roy’s body, Shane nuzzles into his neck, blowing into his ear.

“I love you.” The words slip easily from Roy’s lips. Of course, they are words he’s said to Shane a million times, but not like this, in this context. He realizes what just happened and freezes in dread.

Shane smiles easily, letting him clear off the hook. “Don’t worry. I know what you meant.”

“I just-”

“Stop panicking,” Shane tells him, “It’s okay; I love you too. Cunt.”

Roy relaxes. He should have known. That of course Shane would get it. He always has. That’s why this fucked up dynamic _works_ for them in the first place. “Well, thanks.”

“And hey, if we’re not married by the time we’re 40…” Shane begins, teasingly.

“I’m 42, you nimwit,” Roy reminds him.

“Oh, right. Well. By the time _I’m_ 40…”

“If I make it that long…”

Shane gives him a cross look. “Not funny.”

“Sorry.” Roy shakes his head, a contented smile spreading across his face. “I dunno, Shane. That’s only 5 years away. You sure you wanna make that kind of commitment?”

Shane giggles, leaning on his shoulder. He pokes at one of his dimples. “You’re pretty cute.”

“One of us has to be.”

Shane laughs again, cupping his face, pressing a soft kiss to his jaw. Watches his eyes flutter shut again.

***

Roy sits up, rubbing his eyes, yawning. “What time is it?”

“Uhh…almost eleven?”

He sighs. “I should probably head home.”

“Alright.” Shane moves slightly, giving Roy the space to get up, trying to think about what a good time they had, rather than how cold the bed will feel without him.

Roy stands up and fastens his fly, straightening his clothes. Shane’s gazing up at him from the bed with this pensive little smirk, and as he puts his hat back on, he says, “Let’s take a selfie.”

Shane laughs. “Sure. But I should probably put my shirt back on.”

“Good call,” Roy snickers, picking his shirt up off the floor and tossing it to him.

Shane gestures to a huge light tucked into the corner. “Turn on the ring light. It takes years off. And the overhead so that it’s not obvious.”

Roy laughs some more, complying with his requests. “Yes, ma’am. Anything else?”

“Come here.” Shane scoots over to the foot of the bed, and Roy sits, holding up his phone.

They pose, and Roy takes a few shots, then opens Instagram. He selects his favorite picture, throws on a moon filter and begins to type out a caption. He’s adding hashtags when he hears the strangled noise from Shane’s throat and looks up to see his dumbfounded expression. “What?”

“You can’t post that picture!” Shane exclaims incredulously, throwing his hands up.

“Why not?”

“Why not?! Because _look_ at us! You look dazed, there’s an unmade bed in the background, and my _hair_ is-”

“I think we look cute.”

“I think that if you post that picture, people will speculate wildly.” Shane raises his eyebrows.

“They already do,” Roy laughs. “So what?”

Shane opens his mouth. “I…”

“Well? I mean honestly, who cares? People have very sad lives. Let them fucking speculate.”

Shane looks at him with a slightly smug expression. “Man, you _really_ can’t resist putting your trade on social media, can you?”

Roy cackles. “I guess not. You got a problem with that?”

“I guess not,” Shane winks.

“Alright then.” Roy adds one last hashtag (#goodtimes) and hits post.

“Nice hashtags. Very original.”

“Fuck off.”

Shane giggles. “You _should_ have said hashtag fork me.”

Roy cackles, rising from the bed. “That’s funny.”

“I’m not just just a pretty face, you know,” Shane sings, smirking up at him.

Roy touches his cheek, eyes soft. “No…”

Shane swallows. “Well, don’t do that.”

“Sorry. I meant to say…go fuck yourself, asshole. You’re a slut, and I hate you.”

Shane nods, cracking a smile. “See? That feels much better, doesn’t it?”

“It does, thanks.” Roy flashes his dimples one last time and then turns to leave. “Goodnight, Shane.”

“Goodnight.”


End file.
